


five things that the guardians taught each other

by kyrilu



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Friendship, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/kyrilu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And they one thing they all knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five things that the guardians taught each other

 1.

The trick to defusing drinking sessions between the team - as in, preventing outbursts of violence - is to produce a suitable distraction. The distraction is a set of playing cards, which Drax isn't familiar with, but it's easy enough to learn. Peter names the suits, remarks on the differences they have compared to Terran cards, and Gamora tells him of strategies, of games, that she's witnessed before.

Drax is drunk, but for now, it's just a warm pleasant buzz in the back of his head. He takes in the knowledge as best as he can. He plays the first game, delivers his bluffs with a straight face, and laughs heartily when they all realize that Peter is bad at bluffing.

Drax thinks he might win - until Rocket wins the game.

Drax frowns. Rocket wins the next game after that, and the one after that. There is a self-assured expression on his black-and-white face.

Then Drax notices Groot. Groot is fully grown now, and subtly, in the background, he is snaking out his lithe branch of a neck to glance at Drax's cards, Gamora's cards, Peter's cards. When he is finished looking, Groot quickly retracts his neck, and presumably, informs Rocket.

During a break between games, Drax approaches Rocket. He keeps his voice low so that the others won't hear.

"There are no stakes in this game," Drax says. "Why are you cheating?"

Rocket doesn't have the grace to look abashed. He gestures a bottle in his paw toward Drax. "So you found me out. Well - it's the _principle_ of things, O Destroyer. I'm winning. I don't need no rules."

Drax peers at Groot, who is standing beside Rocket, uneasily. "It is not honorable between friends," he says. "I don't believe it is fair that you are the only victor."

"Fair, schmair," Rocket says with a scoff. "You wanna win, Drax? You gotta beat me at my own game. I'm just playing the only way I know."

He adds, "'Sides, I'm not the only one cheating - I think our boy Petey has spare cards in his coat pockets. And I think Gamora's swiping some of them. I wonder how long it'll take for that idjit to realize what she's doing."

Drax is astounded. "You're _all_ cheating?"

"I am Groot," Groot offers.

"Right," Rocket agrees. "Sorry, Drax. We're the sorriest band of misfits with illegal pasts in the galaxy, never mind guardians. How can ya expect us _not_ to cheat?"

Drax takes a drag of the bottle in his hand slowly. He turns Rocket's words over in his mind, thoughtful.

He wins the next game, and when Rocket looks stunned by the outcome Drax says, "I took your advice. Thank you."

Rocket doesn't look enraged; instead, he throws back his furry head and snickers. "Atta boy. How...?"

Drax smiles. "I may have learned a trick of two from Kyln in regard to deception."

Unfortunately, they don't play any card games again. Peter discovers Gamora's thievery, and violence does in fact, erupt, and cards are officially banned.

Drax makes it a habit, however, to try and find loopholes to other games they encounter throughout the galaxy.

 

2.

"Run me through your backstory and role again," Gamora says.

"I'm not gonna forget," Peter says, but he sighs and starts. "I'm posing as Drax's brother. I'm attending the ball on Llyan so I can donate to a politician's foundation, but I'm actually there to find proof of how corrupted he is."

Peter is usually the one running these things, but it was Gamora who had encountered the story about this dick fleecing people out of their credits and wanted to take the reins. She's worrying over it, and--

"Why so you have to be here when I'm naked?" he complains, because he is. Not that he minds showing off or anything, but it's a different context here: Drax is carefully applying red and blue paint on his skin, so Peter can blend in a little more with the locals and pass himself off as non-Terran (or half-Terran, but, whatever, semantics).

All of his clothes are discarded on the ground while Drax is working a paintbrush on him.

"I have to make sure you'll play your part well," Gamora replies. "And I think I'll check on Rocket to see his progress on counterfeiting the mechanical invitations."

She walks away with an absurdly determined look in her eyes, and Peter rolls his own. But he gets her--the guy they're going after has the reputation of literally ruining lives.

"Shit, this is cold," he mutters, as Drax continues painting away. The paint is cool, kind of tingles, and it smells. But he holds himself as still as he can.

Drax is focused. He's steadying Peter with a strong grip.

Peter watches him, as the brush dips across his shoulders. "Hey," he says, "the markings - what do they mean?"

Drax pauses between brushstrokes. "These are the marks of my planet. It is an ancient language that lives on only on our bodies. No one can speak it."

"Like Latin," Peter says, although he knows Drax wouldn't get the comparison.

"This one means bravery," Drax tells him. He touches the complicated twist of spirals and whorls on Peter's left arm. "And the one below your throat means music."

A smile flickers on Drax's face and he says, "I thought you would appreciate it greatly."

Peter manages to crane this neck to catch a glance of the marking, and his eyes trace the intricate loop. Music. It looks like feathers curved together.

His mother would have liked it. She had a tattoo on her ankle, and Peter always had begged her to show it to him. She had laughed and said it was a silly thing she'd done when she was young and stupid, but she would let him see.

Peter closes his eyes, the blue paint on his eyelids a wet slit, and he tells Drax about his mother.

Drax listens to him. He says, softly, "The last time I did this was for my daughter. Her first initiation. She earned _bravery._ "

The shape on Peter's arm.

"The mark was permanent," Drax continues. "Not temporary like this paint. I was very proud, and my wife was very proud as well...."

Peter tries to picture a girl who looks like Drax. Maybe she has the same eyes; maybe she has the same small smile. She was probably very badass, going by her ancestry.

“It’s cool,” Peter says. He says, “Thank you,” and he means it.

When they enter the ballroom, Peter calls Drax _brother._

 

3.

Peter has occasionally found himself wishing that he had proper Terran instruments to play along to his music. For the most part, singing and dancing is enough. But he still has foggy memories of musical instruments--the guitar his grandfather had owned, the small harmonica that his mother had once given him for a birthday…

He finally decides to implement his idea during yet another _Milano_ -based drinking session. He sets himself about, dragging out tools that Rocket was working with and finding whatever random shit lying here or there that will be useful.

“What the hell are ya doing?” Rocket says, the words partially slurred.

Peter ignores him. He retrieves forks, knives, and spoons, and gathers about empty bottles that they’ve finished drinking from.

He hands Gamora a wrench and multiple small Rocket-sized toolkits: “Drums.”

He hands Rocket the eating utensils and the bottles: “Xylophone.”

He hands a wire-mechanical-doodad-thing into Drax’s hands: “Guitar.”

“We’re a rock band,” he informs the team.

“Rocks?” Drax asks, holding out the gizmo in consternation. “This is not a rock, Peter. I believe it is an internal part of the ship that you ripped out.”

“No, no, rock as in my _music_ ,” Peter says, patiently. “I explained it last time, remember? And now, I’m going to put on an Awesome Mix, and we’re going to play along.”

Gamora’s face is bemused, but Peter knows that she likes his music enough to cooperate. She gives a toolbox an experimental bang. Rocket, thankfully, is too drunk to protest, and he makes a hiccuping sound, squinting through the bottle in his paw.

“I am Groot?” Groot asks.

“We’re gonna be vocals, buddy,” Peter says. “With a side of dancing. Have you ever sung anything before?”

“I am Groot.”

“There’s a scale,” Peter explains. He remembers the bits and pieces of _The Sound of Music_ from his childhood. He demonstrates: “ _Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do._ ”

“ _I-am-Groot. I-am-Groot. I-am-Groot._ ” Groot looks immensely pleased with himself.

Peter gives him a thumbs-up.

He puts the tape into the ship’s cassette player, and they make the most amazing band in the galaxy. Drax and Gamora both really get into their respective strumming and crashing, while Rocket nimbly dashes out a tune across his pseudo-xylophone.

As always, Peter sings his heart out. Groot shares a branch-made pretend microphone between the two of them.

 

4.

Twining together flower stems is surprisingly complex work. Groot pokes a twig finger, at times, to straighten out the knots that she makes, and Gamora smiles at him in thanks.

Groot produces white flowers, blue flowers, yellow flowers, pink flowers. The yellow flowers are Gamora’s favorites, because there used to be a similar plant growing on her planet. She used to pick them for her mother and leave the blossoms in places for her to discover: on their library shelves, on windowsills, on the head of her bed. These flowers were golden, and they were transparent like glass…

Gamora doesn’t realize she’s crying until she feels the coarse brush of Groot’s bark-covered fingers. He is gazing at her in a quiet understanding, wearing an expression that doesn’t need language to convey its definition. He lifts the flowery wreath from her hands and sets it onto her head: a crown.

“I am Groot,” he says slowly, and he drops a yellow flower into her hand. He must have seen her staring at them.

Gamora speaks to Groot about her mother. She tells him about the vase that had been knocked down when the invaders had come barging into her home, and how she still remembers the glass yellow petals on the floor.

“I am Groot,” Groot says again, when she’s finished, and he shows her how to weave a small basket to hold his yellow flowers. It’s a strong basket, composed of his tough vines, and Gamora thinks with a certainty that this one will never shatter.

 

5.

Gamora is awakened by metallic clanging noises and loud curses from the adjacent room. She yawns, rubs her eyes, and pokes her head into Rocket’s room.

Groot is curled in bed still, a huddling mass of wood and vines, but Rocket is awake. He is glaring at a panel open on the ship walls, a screwdriver poised in his paws. “Those dumbass Nova Corps engineers,” he says, in greeting, when he sees Gamora. “They don’t know how to put a fucking ship together.”

“What is the problem?” Gamora asks. She pads over to the panel.

“This thing,” Rocket says through gritted teeth. “Maintenance issues, here and there. It’s unbelievable. It’s unprofessional.”

Gamora studies the wires carefully. The crisscross of red and blue and the gears tucked away. She asks, “May I try?”

Rocket shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”

She takes the screwdriver from him and points out certain mechanisms in the panel. Gamora has never been one for engineering or metalwork, but this matter is straightforward enough, and she shows Rocket a temporary solution.

“We’ll have to take the _Milano_ in to be repaired,” she says. “Our minor modifications might help, but fixing this entirely is beyond our reach.”

Rocket’s furry brows are raised. “And where’d _you_ learn how to fix things?”

“My sister.”

“That crazy blue bitch?”

Gamora cracks a smile. “Indeed. She is cybernetically enhanced. I...there were times when she needed repairs. After training. After missions. She was too proud to ask for help, but somebody had to put her together again.”

Gamora can still call back the feeling of grasping metal scraps, arranging loose copper blue pieces, and the smell of burnt metal. She misses Nebula fiercely, and there is pain in remembering her.

Gamora sees Rocket raise a startled paw to the small of his back, where his implants lie.

 _Oh_ , she thinks. She thinks of the basket that Groot helped her make, and when she meets Rocket’s beady eyes, she makes him a silent promise. Rocket doesn’t say anything, just tucks his head away so she won’t see his face-- _too proud to ask for help_ \--and this is another exchange that Gamora can wholly understand.

 

+1.

They lose heat on the _Milano_ before they make it to the ship repairs garage. It happens when Peter is piloting, the temperature rapidly plummeting, and he blurts out loud, “ _Fuck._ ”

He puts the ship on autopilot. He finds the others crammed into the engine room, the warmest room on the ship. Gamora and Drax are shivering, watching as Rocket is working furiously with a wrench on some panels, while Groot holds tools out for him.

“A-any progress?” Peter asks, shuddering like hell.

“No,” Rocket says curtly.

Groot sighs, “I am Groot,” and he snakes out tendrils of branches to pull Rocket away from the panel.

Groot does his light trick again, but it’s different this time. He leaves the shining orbs on his body, but he’s emitting warmth as well as light.

Peter doesn’t hesitate to tuck himself in a cozy spot by Groot’s arm, a bark surface that Groot has cushioned with leaves. The warm light chases the cold air away, and Peter sees the others huddle around Groot as well. Rocket, curled inside a hollow space that Groot has cleared for him. Gamora, next to Peter, wrapped up in vines and smiling at a yellow bud that Groot has blossomed for her. Drax, whose red tattoos are blazing like fire in the light, and he’s so damned _big_ , but he’s somehow found room by Groot’s legs.

There isn’t any knowledge required for cuddling. Peter listens as Rocket grumbles to Groot about tugging him away from the panel, shooting a half-hearted insult his direction, and Drax lets out that deep, low laugh of his.

Gamora shifts to hold Peter’s hand. He smiles when he realizes that she’s pressed the yellow flower into his palm.


End file.
